


Out Of His Depth

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has a lot of things to deal with after the war is over, losing his virginity and being open with his sexuality is one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Of His Depth

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Written for kink_n_squick fest on LiveJournal: First Time/Awkward Sex

Harry thought about it all the time—being pushed against the wall in a crowded place while another man was grinding against him. The man would be pushing his arse on Harry’s groin and Harry would hold his waist, watching him move, thrust into him. 

Then the man would turn, his hand would tease Harry’s erection while he sucked on Harry’s neck. That’s how he wanted it—his first time—that’s how he wanted to come for another man.

It was strange really, when he’d been with Ginny, he’d imagined his first time with her to be sweet and gentle. Probably lots of candles floating in the air while they would be on a bed, most likely, in a fancy hotel room, and he would be on top of her, loving her. But that never happened. The war happened, then they didn’t get back together and she was with someone else. He’d told her to move on—pushed her even—and she really only did it to make him want her back.

Trouble was, he didn’t want her back. 

Ginny had eventually confronted Harry, and Harry had said it was because he just needed time to be alone—maybe even that he was asexual. He knew it was a lie, but he couldn’t muster up the words to confess to tell his ex-girlfriend: as an "adult", soon to turn nineteen, he was not asexual but a homosexual.

Harry thought about cock a lot. He’d sit at a café, watch blokes walk by and think about the thing in between their legs. He’d never had such thoughts about women—he didn’t think about whether or not they wore short skirts or a tight top. But when Harry sat at a Muggle café and watched blokes with tight jeans on, he’d stare at their bulge, their arse as they walked away. 

Then he’d go home and touch himself, have a wank, thinking about it over and over again. 

Then he was soon to turn twenty, and he still hadn’t said anything to Ginny either. 

Harry was afraid to ever approach a bloke—Muggle or wizard. He’d simply watch them. Sometimes he’d sit next to a gay couple at a coffee shop and would pretend like he didn’t notice it that they’d be eyeing him. 

"What are you afraid of?" Hermione asked. After a month he’d confessed to her—and only her—that he was pretty sure he was gay.

"I don’t know—I wouldn’t even know what to say," Harry answered.

"And what about the club _fantasy_? Harry immediately regretted ever telling Hermione his deepest desires. "Why don’t you just go to a Muggle gay club and see how it feels? You don’t have to dance—I can go with you…"

"No, thanks, Hermione!" Harry answered hurriedly. "The last thing I want is for us to tell Ron why you and I are going to a gay club in Muggle London."

"You could go with Malfoy," Hermione said.

"I’m sorry, I could what now—?"

"Malfoy, you know he’s out, right?"

"He is?" Harry asked, shocked. He had no idea, and how did Hermione know?

"Yeah," she said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Don’t you read the _Prophet_?"

"No, actually, I don’t." Harry hated the _Prophet_ with all the passion he could muster up inside him. That newspaper and the lies it spread had poisoned enough of his life that he did not need to continue reading it after the war. He was sure that it was still publishing useless articles about him. Merlin only knew the things they had said about Harry when he’d spoken in defence for Malfoy and his mother.

"Well he came out in the _Prophet_ —it said that he’d visited Azkaban and told his father, who apparently did not receive the news very well, but his mother is supportive."

"Good for him," Harry said, and thought about other things to change the topic. "Anyway, I think I’m going to look into writing for _The Quibbler_."

"You’re joking!" Hermione looked genuinely surprised. "When you told me that Luna approached you about it—I didn’t think you were actually thinking about it."

"I want to do it, I think it’ll be fun. I just have to do their _Sports_ section. Travel from game to game and write my editorial piece on it. It sounds like fun and it’s not like I need the money."

"What about Auror training?" she asked, concerned, and her disapproving look was hard to miss.

"I’ll think about it next year," he answered. Before Hermione could say anything else, Harry spoke again. "And I’ll think about going to the club—by myself—I mean. I’ll get over my fear, I swear."

She smiled approvingly. Harry sighed with relief—he wasn’t in the mood for one of her lectures.

*-*-*

After a lot of practice in front of the mirror—on having conversations—Harry finally managed to convince himself that he was ready to go to a gay club. It was going to go alright, he told himself. He was going to go, order a drink and lounge about at the bar. Then maybe chat up a few blokes. It would be okay; he hoped.

The first night, Harry walked up to the club called _Axis_ and managed to get in line. As his turn came to enter, he hopped out of the line and just ran back to the main street. Step one was go to the club: it didn’t say anything about entering it. When he reached an Apparition point, he thought he’d heard someone call out "Potter!" He wasn’t too sure though and he Disapparated home.

The next day, Harry went to Hermione’s flat for tea and told her of the events from the night before. 

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione asked, in the kindest way she could.

"I don’t know!" Harry raised his arms in defeat and slammed them against his sides in exhaustion. "I was there—I just couldn’t go in."

"Why not? What do you think will happen when you get in there? Men will just _attack_ you? Push you against the wall, try to ravage you?" she asked, her tone annoyed. "They’re Muggles, Harry. Normal people who will probably just want to talk with you or dance." 

"No, of course not. I just don’t know what happened—I just wasn’t ready."

"Harry, next time you get stuck on something… just remind yourself, you defeated Voldemort. You can do this." Hermione tried to encourage Harry. "You can step inside a club and if you don’t like it, you’re a wizard, you can just find a dark corner and Disapparate!"

"I know you’re right," Harry answered as he placed his head in his hands and sighed. 

"What is keeping you back?" Hermione asked, genuinely concerned. She sat next to him on the sofa and squeezed his shoulder. "Just tell me, say anything that comes in your mind!"

Harry sighed again and leaned back into the sofa. "I don’t know…" He paused. "I think that once I do it—go to the club—meet a man and actually kiss him. It’ll be real, you know? There will be no going back. It’ll be official, Harry Potter Gay-Wizard. I’ll have to eventually come out, tell all my friends and what if—"

"What if what?" Hermione ran her fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry leaned into his friend’s touch. She was like a sister to him and she was always so supportive.

"What if Ron isn’t as accepting as you, and Ginny—"

"They’ll love you. They already love you and that won’t change. The longer you keep this secret from them, Harry—it’ll eat you alive!"

Harry nodded and thought over Hermione’s words. He really should tell Ron what was going on with him so he wouldn’t keep asking Harry why Harry and Ginny weren’t getting back together. Then he’d have to tell Ginny. Harry groaned with discomfort. It was going to be a very awkward conversation.

*-*-*

Three nights later, Harry tried going to the club again. He could do this—he’d defeated Voldemort! He stood in line, his hands in his jeans pockets as he waited apprehensively behind several people.

"First time?" the man in front of him asked. 

"That obvious, huh?" Harry smiled. 

"A little bit," the man answered. "Besides, I saw you the other day, you got out of the line and ran off—"

"Oh yeah, I—I’d forgotten something and needed to take care of it," Harry lied.

"I saw someone running after you, I think they were calling your name," the man said. "Potter, is it?"

Harry’s heart sank. He _had_ heard someone calling him out. It hadn’t been his imagination. "Yeah, that’s my name."

"I’m Jack," the man said as he shook Harry’s hand.

"Harry," Harry said shaking his hand. "Potter."

"I thought it was rather odd to have ‘Potter’ for a first name," Jack teased and Harry grinned. "Allow me to buy you a drink when we go in?" Harry nodded. 

When they entered the club, Harry wasn’t as nervous as he had been a few days before. He had to thank Jack for that. They’d talked the entire time they were in line and he seemed like a very nice and down to earth man. 

"Oh, my friend’s already here. I met him last month in line, just like you," Jack said, and pointed at the bar. 

A blond figure turned around and waved at Jack. Harry couldn’t believe it, Jack’s _friend_ was Draco Malfoy. 

"Was that the man who called my name a few nights ago?"

"Yeah, it was!" Jack said, excitedly. "I should have mentioned that when we were in line, I don’t know what I was thinking. So you know Draco?"

"Yeah, you can say that," Harry answered. 

"Draco, look, I found your friend Potter."

"So it was you the other night, Potter," Malfoy said. "Why did you run away?"

"Draco, be nice," Jack said, intervening and turned to the bar and ordered three drinks.

"I...Erm—"

"You...what?" Malfoy asked. "Don’t tell me the Saviour was afraid of a little gay club?"

Harry turned to see Jack, who was still at the bar and probably hadn’t heard Malfoy calling him ‘the Saviour’. "What is your problem, Malfoy?"

"My problem?" Malfoy sneered. "I’m not the one who didn’t say anything against the rumours in the _Prophet_ regarding something between us—causing my coming out—to be all about _you_."

"About me? How’s that?" Harry asked. 

"What, don’t you read the _Prophet_?"

"No!" Harry let out an angry sight. "I don’t read the bloody _Prophet_." Harry wondered what the article really said, and how many secrets his friends still kept from him.

"What’s the _Prophet_?" Jack asked. He’d returned with three drinks in hand. 

"It’s nothing…" Harry said. "Jack, thank you for the drink and it was very nice to meet you. Now if you’ll excuse me?" Jack nodded and Harry smiled at him and walked away. He didn’t look at Malfoy. 

As he walked away from Jack and Malfoy, Harry wondered if Malfoy and Jack did anything sexual. They had met a month ago—were they just friends, or more?

Harry found himself in the dark corner of the club as he stood against the wall watching people dance. There were many men on the dance floor, some ridiculously pissed, others completely sober, dancing all together as one. It was rather intoxicating to watch, Harry thought. Harry continued to sip on his drink that Jack had bought and observed. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see a blond figure approaching him. Harry groaned. He really wasn’t in the mood to argue with Malfoy again.

"What is it now, Malfoy?" Harry said before Malfoy had a chance to say anything.

"Why are you standing in a corner?" Malfoy asked.

"What is it to you?" Harry retorted. He didn’t understand why Malfoy cared anyway.

"You should be on the dance floor if you’re looking to get hounded by the masses," Malfoy said with a hint of haughtiness. 

"I...what?" Harry snapped. "I’m just watching. It’s my first time—I just want to be here—"

"First time?" Malfoy questioned. "You mean...you’ve never…"

"I’ve never...what?"

"You’ve never been on the dance floor with sweaty men all around you, dancing, you feeding off their energy…" Malfoy looked befuddled with the thought.

"Merlin, Malfoy. Why don’t you go and dance if it’s just so incredible?" Harry asked sarcastically. He was intrigued by what Malfoy had said but he wasn’t about to show his desperation to the one person he hated the most—used to hate.

"Come with me," Malfoy said and Harry simply stared at him in shock. "Just come." Malfoy pulled on Harry’s arm and led him to the dance floor. He nodded at a few blokes and moments later, they were in the middle of it all. 

Harry immediately felt someone wrap their arms around his waist and push into him. Whoever it was—was hard. He was moving with the music and Harry looked at Malfoy almost panicking. Malfoy placed his arms around Harry and leaned into Harry. He moved with the music against Harry’s body and whispered in Harry’s ear. "Just relax, Potter. Just feel the music, close your eyes if you have to."

Harry nodded and did what he was instructed. He was Harry Potter, he’d defeated Voldemort, he told himself. Malfoy had pulled away from Harry, and Harry missed his warmth almost immediately. He kept his eyes closed and pushed back into the man that was dancing behind him. He moved slowly with the music, meeting the man’s move rhythm by rhythm. 

"You’re really sexy," the man whispered in Harry’s ear and Harry grinned. A second later, someone else had grabbed his waist and began caressing him. Harry opened his eyes and was surprised to see it was Malfoy, still. He had only taken his hands off Harry, he hadn’t left. 

Malfoy nodded to Harry and looked at him straight in the eyes. It was as though Malfoy was asking for permission so Harry nodded. Malfoy pulled Harry towards him, away from the man that had been holding him from behind and pushed his legs in between Harry’s legs. 

Harry and Malfoy danced together as Harry was grinding on Malfoy’s right leg and Malfoy’s hands were stroking Harry’s hair. It was hard to believe that he had just been arguing with Malfoy minutes before and now they were practically thrusting into each other on the dance floor. 

When the song changed, Harry straightened up but didn’t stop dancing. Malfoy turned and Harry immediately wrapped his arms around Malfoy, as though he was afraid that Malfoy would run away. Malfoy pushed himself against Harry’s groin and Harry was hard. Malfoy was grinding with Harry the way Harry had always dreamed about. Except, this wasn’t the dark corner Harry had hoped. There were people watching. Harry gulped nervously, he wanted to stop Malfoy from continuing, his heart was beating faster than he thought possible and he’d open his mouth to speak and nothing came of it. 

His hands rested on Malfoy’s waist, slowly creeping under Malfoy’s shirt, daring to touch the soft skin. His mind and body were doing equally different things. Malfoy pushed into him again, Harry’s lips reaching Malfoy’s ear. Harry let out a hot breath and he felt Malfoy’s body shiver. He wanted Malfoy to stop...he let out a whimper instead. 

He pushed into Harry again and Harry thrust up. Harry was sure if they continued doing that, he’d come in his boxers. It was as though Malfoy knew it too, and he continued. 

"Fuck, Potter…" Malfoy whispered in Harry’s ear as he leaned back and Malfoy was definitely doing it to him on purpose and how had Harry not stopped him already? "Merlin, Potter...I never realised you’d make me so hard," Malfoy whispered again, his body was leaning into Harry and a few more thrusts and Harry came undone—thrusting into Malfoy, moaning in Malfoy’s ear. 

"You just made me come," Harry mumbled in Malfoy’s ear, feeling sheepish. His shorts were sticky and he wondered if it would be rude to excuse himself to go to the loo right away.

"I just took your club virginity," Malfoy answered coyly. 

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling foolish. He looked away from Malfoy, towards the crowd, wondering if they can see him now. If they could read his face. 

Malfoy stopped moving, he was still leaning against Harry but he was staring at Harry, looking—searching, in his eyes. He then turned around and was face to face. "Potter, you’re a…" he paused. "A virgin?" he whispered. 

Harry nodded, avoiding eye contact with Malfoy.

"Come with me," Malfoy said in Harry’s ear and pulled him away from the dance floor. Harry followed him back to the corner where he was at when Malfoy had first approached him. Malfoy leaned into Harry and he nuzzled his neck and kissed his ear before speaking. "I’m sorry, I didn’t know."

Harry inadvertently began thrusting into Malfoy. "It’s okay," Harry whispered, he wrapped his arms around Malfoy and stroked his back. "I’m sure you also thought that the Saviour of the Wizarding World can have all the sex he wants…"

"Can’t you?" Malfoy asked. 

"You’d be surprised," Harry answered. "Not all of us are out."

"You should be, I’m sure you’ll have blokes lining up to shag you at any day’s notice. You already saw how many people wanted you on the dance floor."

"Did they? I was thinking that they all thought I was a fool to fall for a cheap trick on the dance floor." Harry looked firmly at Malfoy, and immediately regretted saying that. "Besides, I was also busy with something else…"

"With what?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"With this bloke that was sort of grinding on me...it made it difficult to look elsewhere," Harry answered, genuinely. 

"So no one’s ever gotten you off?" Malfoy asked and Harry shook his head. "Sucked your cock...nothing?"

Harry felt his face flush with embarrassment. "Go ahead, make fun of me. Nearly twenty and still a virgin."

"Potter," Malfoy whispered, pushing his groin against Harry. "I won’t...I can’t. I’m nearly twenty and still a virgin. I’ve only done as much as you have...until now."

"You mean…" Harry looked at Malfoy to make sure he wasn’t having him on. "You’ve only just come with one bloke—on the dance floor?" Harry thought that sounded awkward and ridiculously naive but he didn’t know how else to say it.

Malfoy nodded. "Yeah, I wanted to do that to you—I’ve always—" he sighed.

"You’ve always...what?"

"I liked you, alright. But our lives were fucked up and then you saved me at the Trials and then the _Prophet_ wrote articles about how we were involved and I was angry because it was like my fantasy—only not real—then I saw you here in the corner…"

Harry kissed him.

Malfoy’s lips were soft and Harry licked his lower lip before biting it, then Malfoy opened his mouth and Harry slid his tongue in. Malfoy sucked on Harry’s tongue as Harry moaned into Malfoy’s mouth. His hand travelled down to Malfoy’s trousers and they were cotton, unlike Harry’s coarse jeans. Harry stroked Malfoy’s erection with his hand as they kissed and his touch only became stronger as Malfoy deepened the kiss. 

Harry thought it would be a good idea to put his hand inside Malfoy’s trousers. He tried to unbutton the top button, but he seemed to be having trouble and Malfoy snickered, Harry’s tongue still inside Malfoy’s mouth. Malfoy freed his left hand from Harry’s hair and unbuttoned it for him. 

Moments later, Harry’s hand was _finally_ inside Malfoy’s trousers and he was stroking him hard. Malfoy’s cock was hot, and Harry thought it was incredible. He was himself hard again, wanting to slide their erections together. Then Malfoy was coming in his hand and his hand was tugging on Harry’s cock.

"Fuck…" he whispered in Harry’s ear as he broke the kiss in his last moments of climax. "Gods, Potter, your hand...your tongue."

"Boys, you can’t do that here." Harry and Malfoy turned their joined heads towards the voice. A large muscular man dressed in all black with his arms crossed was staring at them with a stern look. "Well...you can’t do that here anymore. Get in the back room or you’re out."

He continued to glare at them as Harry pulled his hand out of Malfoy’s trousers and looked at the come that was on his fingers. He couldn’t Spell it away in front of a Muggle either. 

"Erm...yeah. Sorry, Bradley," Malfoy said and he pulled on Harry’s arm and took him to the back room. 

"Do you know everyone here?" Harry asked. "Then how is it you’ve never done…?" Harry wondered if Malfoy was really telling the truth—was he _really_ a virgin? He seemed to know everyone around. How had he not shagged any one of them?

Malfoy found an empty corner in the backroom and swished his wand. The dark room became just a little bit darker. "Because I’d been waiting for someone that I knew could help me get over you."

Malfoy, Harry thought, was literally attacking his neck—he biting and kissing every part of Harry. Harry let out a soft groan that came around the same time as Malfoy bit him hard, and the groan ended up sounding more like a painful scream. Malfoy stopped immediately and looked at Harry. Harry was humiliated. Malfoy grinned and returned, kissing Harry softly on his neck, taking his time sucking, inch by inch.

"Why didn’t you ever say anything...I could...I would…"

"Pity fucked me?" Malfoy stopped again and looked at Harry.

"No, of course not. Gone on a few dates—realised how much I want you too—Merlin, Malfoy. Why would you even think _that_?" Malfoy shrugged. "Tell me, Draco."

"Pansy said even if you were gay, you’d never want me." Malfoy looked down on the floor then looked up at Harry again. He began fixing his hair as though nothing had just happened between them.

"Why would you ever believe what _she_ says? She was all but ready to hand me off to Voldemort." Harry laughed and Malfoy laughed with him. He pulled Malfoy towards him and cupped his arse. "You really have the most perfect arse, you know that? If we’d ever gone on a real first date and you’d showed up in these trousers, I might have just taken you to bed right then."

"And now?" Malfoy asked.

"Now? I can’t wait to continue what we’ve started. You have no idea how _glad_ I am that I came here tonight and how you forced me to dance with you." Even though things were progressing awkwardly for Harry, he was telling the truth. He was glad that it was Malfoy that he was doing this with. And especially glad that Malfoy wasn’t making fun of his ineptness.

Malfoy grinned and Harry didn’t wait for him to reply before he kissed Malfoy again. This time he parted his lips slightly and Malfoy slid his tongue in and Harry moaned again. Malfoy’s hands were caressing Harry’s erection and it wasn’t long until he was unbuttoning Harry’s jeans and struggling with the zipper. They broke the kiss apart and Malfoy was on his knees.

"Wait," Harry said and he pulled out his wand and cast a Cleaning Spell. He had come in his boxers not long ago, if Malfoy was going to do this—there—Harry could at least be considerate.

It wasn’t long after, Harry’s cock was in Malfoy’s mouth and Harry felt as though he’d lost all feeling in his legs. He struggled to stand straight with his hands trying to grab onto the wall. He awkwardly thrust into Malfoy’s mouth and his teeth scraped over Harry’s head. Harry let out a painful groan again. Malfoy stopped immediately.

"It’s okay, I am okay. Please don’t stop." 

Malfoy’s resumed, his tongue swirling around Harry’s cock and Harry did his best to muffle his moans.

It took some time before Harry thought Malfoy was comfortable with what he was doing. Before Harry was comfortable with Malfoy doing what he was doing. It was both their first times and Harry felt Malfoy gag just a little bit. He ran his fingers through Malfoy’s hair, steadying his rhythm. He began to slowly massage Malfoy’s scalp to ease any tension. 

It seemed to work, Malfoy relaxed and the experience only improved. With every deep suck from Malfoy on his cock, Harry felt a jolt of lightning throughout his body. 

Then he was coming again in Malfoy’s mouth, and Malfoy didn’t flinch at all. Harry thought about how he would have flinched. He would have been so nervous. When Malfoy stood up to face Harry, Harry was at a loss for words. "That was—that was—"

"Acceptable?"

"Incredible."

Malfoy bit his lower lip and Harry stared at him in awe. He quickly pulled up his jeans and buttoned them. "Do you want to get out of here?" Harry asked.

"And go where?" Malfoy questioned.

"Well, we _could_ go to my place for the night, and have breakfast in the morning. Then maybe meet back here tomorrow evening?"

"What are you going to do between lunch and dinner?" Malfoy asked, sounding sceptical.

Harry chuckled. "Have a conversation with my friends and tell them about—us. If there is an us. I think I might do an exclusive interview with _The Quibbler_."

"Why _The Quibbler_?" Draco asked, an eyebrow raised. He had his hand under Harry’s shirt and his fingers were lightly touching Harry’s skin. Harry was ticklish and did his best to not break into an embarrassing laughter. 

"I’m going to be working for them soon, and if the story published in the _Prophet_ , I probably wouldn’t read it." Harry smiled and traced his finger from Malfoy’s eyes down to his jaw line then rubbed his thumb on Malfoy’s lips. 

He bit his own lip, wanting Malfoy’s tongue again, and almost instinctively, Malfoy leaned in. "There’s definitely an us," Malfoy mumbled as he pressed his lips on Harry’s.

_The End_


End file.
